


Inauguration

by Vatta (Vitani)



Series: Appropriation [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Consent Issues, Death, Underage - Freeform, Violence, royal au, there's no sexual content but there's hints so i'm warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-14 13:47:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/837583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vitani/pseuds/Vatta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>In·au·gu·ra·tion: Noun</b><br/>The beginning or introduction of a system, policy, or period</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Extirpate

**Author's Note:**

> this whole story is from Eridan's POV (unless otherwise stated)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> __**Ex•tir•pate: Verb**  
>  To remove or destroy totally; exterminate.

You’re not sure why everyone looks so sad lately, you are four sweeps old and for the last perigee your neighbours have started calling you ‘your highness’ more often, you’re not sure why. At first, they were quiet and gentle, tentative, testing something. You didn’t want to correct them and hurt their feelings. Furthermore, you have no idea why people keep talking to you like you’re about to flip your hypothetical shit, it’s starting to grate on your nerves.

Today is particularly tense, you keep hearing people rushing around outside your hive, occasionally you catch someone yelling about ‘the time’ or asking ‘what’s going to happen?’

You don’t know much about politics, but you understand something’s going on with the prince, you can see it in his face; a look of restlessness, anticipation. You wonder what happened to the young, spunky adolescent prince people speak of, the one that had so many plans for peace and equality. Only to be shut down by the Empress, and you probably shouldn’t know about that. The Empress is always in the background, shifting in the shadows, a quiet orchestrator of chaos and unease. You’re too young to understand why someone would be so malicious to a people she’s supposed to rule and protect.

There’s a knocking echoing through your hive. You imagine it’s another midblood come to ask you pointless questions about your views on the hemospectrum or if you have any lowblood friends. You don’t see how it’s any of their business, but you like the company sometimes, someone to talk to about yourself. Sometimes they come to tell you about them, tell you that they’re having difficulties and ask you for your advice. You don’t have the heart to tell them you have no idea how you can help, so you usually just tell them to go with whatever feels natural. It’s never come back to haunt you, so perhaps it’s a good bit of input?

But when you open your door, no sooner do you feel the cool ocean breeze on your fins is your vision is obscured and you’re being grabbed from behind, somehow they get a blindfold on you and you’re dragged away from your hive. You tried screaming for your lusus, but there’s a hand covering your mouth, and there must be two people because there’s someone’s hands trying to press on your chest while the other set pull you, kicking and attempting to scream. There’s a female voice ringing in your ears, shooshing you and telling you everything’s fine, they’re not going to hurt you. They’re here to help.

She tells you to stop struggling, so you go rigid, and whoever’s got you hostage stops tugging you backwards and lets you on your feet. You pant for breath through your nose, gills flaring because you’re panicking and not getting enough air. You’re lightheaded. You hear her voice again. “If you promise not to scream, he’ll let you breathe properly.” There’s a pause, your head is swimming and you’re dizzy with fear. “Promise?” You nod as best as you can.

Slowly, the restraining palm is removed. You take in quick gulps of air and you get lightheaded and flop forward slightly. The, now identified, ‘guy’ has his arm is around your chest in no time, holding you up and against him so you can’t run away.

“Alright. We’re going to take you somewhere. This is for your own good. Trust us.”

You open your mouth to say something but you choke, the arms holding onto you tense. You cough until you can form words. “What about- my lusus?”

There’s some shuffling, the guy doesn’t move so you know it’s the woman. “We’ll… Take care of him. Trust us.” The way she keeps saying ‘Trust’ is confusing, it does sound genuine, but if they really didn’t want to do you an harm, surely the would’ve just asked you to go with them instead of grabbing you. You probably would have gone.

You drop your head, and let them lead you away.

…

You’ve probably been walking for an hour when they stop and instruct you on how to walk up stairs. You snort and inform them, “I’m four, not a w-wiggler. I know-w how-w to stairs.”

There’s no reply, they just keep guiding you up.

Once you, presumably, reach the top, there’s someone’s hand holding yours, smaller than the hand on your face felt. You hear shuffling again, then someone unties your blindfold from behind.

It’s brighter than you thought it’d be this time in the evening, and your eyes are blurry from the pressure used to hold them closed. You blink through the glittering blackness until you can sort of make out a woman’s face. Your vision clears up pretty quickly after that.

She’s not scary looking at all, a bit sharp perhaps, she’s kneeling in front of you but you can still tell she’s tall, she has a hood on that covers her horns and a skin-tight, plain black body suit. She looks familiar. You can just about make out that she has a pair of pink glasses on under her hood, and her hair is dragging behind her. You twist your head to get a look at the guy, but she reaches out a hand to rest on your cheek, fingers brushing against your ear fin, you freeze.

“We’re going to go inside now, alright? Just keep quiet. Don’t answer any questions, or even look at anyone.”

You glance beside her and there’s a huge wooden door, complete with a giant knocker.

“W-where are w-we?”

“This is the palace. You know about the palace right?”

You roll your eyes, turning away from her slightly to get a better look at the door. “Yes. But this doesn’t look like the palace.”

“I know dear, this is the back entrance. Now hold still.” You’re about to ask why, but she’s lifting a cloak and placing it over your head, no holes for horns so it just sits on top of them like a veil. Just like hers. “Now. I need to explain something to you, but I’ll do it inside. We can’t risk anyone hearing us.”

Your gaze follows her as she stands to her full height, but the guy behind you grabs you by a horn and wrenches your head forward so you’re looking at the ground. You can only see her feet as she opens the door and slowly creeps into the building, and you get shoved in the back to follow her.

…

You can’t think, you’re overwhelmed, you don’t know what you’re doing.

The woman asks a servant to show you to the Prince’s chambers. You think the servant must recognise her because she goes completely still and nods, bows, and then rushes off as fast as she can while still looking respectable.

You’re shaking.

“Remember what I said kid. If you don’t go through with this-”

“I know-w.”

…

You’ve only seen the prince from a distance, this close up he looks older than you thought he was. He’s only supposed to be seven sweeps old. You suppose that’s what happens when you have that much responsibility weighing on your shoulders.

“I have a gift for you, my little prince. I hope you like it.”

“What? No. Oh no. No way!”

“Please hun. Don’t overreact, it’s unbecoming of someone of our lineage. You have a duty to uphold.”

“I am not. I repeat. NOT going to do this!”

“Don’t talk to me like that you little brat! We gave you options, ‘your highness’.” You almost wince at the use of the phrase, you flashback to people calling you that. You still don’t understand what’s going on. “This is the last resort. Trust us.”

There are a tense few moments where you could almost swear everyone left the room without you realising, you can’t even hear them breathing they’re being so quiet.

“Fine. Leave- uhh…”

“Him.”

“Yeah sure, leave him here. I’ll just… Yeah. I’ll see.”

You think you hear her walking away, then you hear the door click, the prince sighs.

“So…” He says almost immediately. “Are you allowed to speak?”

You’re not sure. So you stay silent.

“Okay, well as the prince, I order you to speak if I address you. And only me. You’re now my property, a gift from the Empress, and you need to learn to obey me.” You can hear the reluctance in his voice.

So was that the empress? Or just someone acting on her behalf? You remember what she had said, keep your voice flat, force your accent away. “Alright.”

“Good. So. What’s your name?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Oh, well… I’ll call you… Progen. Do you like that?”

“Yes, your majesty.”

“Right, Progen… Umm. Come here.” He sounds nervous, unsure. You don’t know if you can do this.

You walk over to him slowly, only peering up enough so you can figure out where he is by his feet. When you reach him you find him sat on a couch and just stand before him, you daren’t look up.

“Alright, umm. Do you… Want to sit on my lap? Or… Something.”

You decide to hell with your nerves. You have to do this. His legs are parted so you seat yourself on one of his thighs, facing inwards toward him, head still down, face hidden.

He goes to pull your hood away. “Don’t.”

“Oh, I just, wanted to see you.” He rests a hand on your shoulder and rubs circles with his thumb. “May I?”

You think back to everything you were told would happen, everything you were supposed to do. Keeping your hood up was on the top of things to do. He can’t see your fins, or your gills.

“No. Sorry.”

His grip on your shoulder tightens slightly. “And why is that? You are my property are you not?” You can still hear the slight waver, as if he’s not even sure if this is something he wants. You straighten your back, puff up your chest and brace yourself.

“Yes.”

“Then I order you to let me see your face.”

You try to figure out a loophole. You’re pretty sure it was also because of the horns, so you slowly reach up and roll the hood back enough to sit on the front most part of your horns and the lighting should keep your fins hidden by the shadow. Then you peer up at him.

He’s smiling. “Very good. Maybe this won’t be so bad.” His other hand comes between the two of you to lift your chin more, then he strokes your cheekbone with the back of his fingers. “How old are you?”

“Four, your grace”

He takes a while to process that, absently resting his hand against your cheek, by your mouth, stroking his thumb under your eye, high enough that occasionally his nail brushes against your bottom eyelashes and you can see how long his nails are, and that they’re sharpened.

He replaces the hand on your shoulder to your side, just above your hip, and pulls you further up his thigh and closer to himself. “Progen, have you ever kissed anyone?”

“No your majesty.”

“Me either.” His eyes fall to his hand on your side, and he takes in a sharp breath in preparation. He slips the hand on your face down to your chest and leans forward towards you. You guess he’s either so nervous or just too inexperienced to realize that you’re cooler than him as he pressed his lips to yours.

He pushes his bottom lip between your own and opens his mouth to force you to part yours, before he manages to slip his tongue past your teeth, he chokes into your mouth, and you taste blood.

“Wha-”

You pull back from his face, his violet eyes bright wide and confused. You use one hand to pull back your hood. As soon as he spots your ear fins he chokes up more blood. His expression reads ‘betrayed’.

“So you-”

You twist the knife in his gut and he almost collapses forward onto your shoulder. When you pull the knife from him, you look down at it with disgust.

“It w-was you or me, ‘your majesty’.” You grimace at the words leaving your mouth.

You stand and nudge him back into the couch as he tries to grab at you, he doesn’t even fight back. You decide you should stick around to make sure he actually dies. They did say that if you failed, you would be killed.

…

“Your majesty?”

“It’s done. Now-w can I go home?”

She smiles fondly at you, and you start to feel less like your soul is trying to eat it’s way out of your body. “You are home, sweety.”

“W-what?”

“You’ve succeeded the prince. Now, you take his place. You live in the palace now. We’ll have your coronation tomorrow, I bet you’re tired huh.”

“But, my lusus-”

“Is dead. I’m sorry honey. This is the way it has to be.” She keeps up that wicked grin, and it’s only now you realise that her hood is down. “You did a good job. You wanna go to sleep?”

“Yes Empress.”

You don’t even argue, you’re so tired and confused. Maybe this is all a dream. You just let her guide you by the hand to a guestroom and help you up into the recuperacoon, and you fall straight to sleep while she combs her fingers through your hair.

…

The coronation preparations go by so quickly that you find yourself bathed and decked out in gold and silk before you even realize you’ve woken up. You don’t know how many of the servants know the prince is dead, but a few must do. They know the drill, and all of a sudden they’re getting a new prince dressed in ceremonial garbs and their old prince isn’t around.

So this is your destiny. You are a prince.

You wonder how long you have until someone comes along to assassinate you.

You hope it’ll be creative. Perhaps you’ll discover them before it happens and there’ll be a fight, or maybe they’ll come into your chambers and murder you in your sleep and you’ll never know what happened.

You wonder what death is like for a while. You decide that it’s probably boring.

Well, you’re alive now. You murdered someone to ensure your own survival, you should really make the most out of it. You should probably care more than you do that you’re only four sweeps old, and already, you’ve killed someone. Instead you’re more focused on the fact that you’ve kissed someone. Despite it being a pretty shitty kiss, and you still have the phantom taste of blood in your mouth. It’s not as bad as you thought, and you have plenty of time to worry about kissing someone properly later.

The Empress is gone. You asked a servant about her and, after he gently reminded you that you needed to lose the accent, he said that she would never be back. The man though, he’s still here. You didn’t recognise him at first obviously, because you’d never seen him. But you can smell him, he smells like hard work, exertion and sweat, but not unpleasantly.

He is the Head Captain of the bodyguards. And it should tell you something if the head of the prince’s bodyguards is helping to orchestrate his assassination. But when you were left alone in a room with him and he was supposed to explain how the bodyguard system worked, he dropped to his knees, begging you for forgiveness.

“Please your highness, understand. The prince- I mean, the late prince… He wasn’t cut out for the position. He never took his place on the hemospectrum seriously. He was a burden to the kingdom and there needed to be change.”

You place a hand on his head, his hair is flat and shiny, and you expected it to be greasy with how much he seems to sweat in general, but it’s strangely soft. He cringes when you touch him, you’re not sure if he’s afraid of you or if you just shouldn’t be doing this and he’s worried about protocol, he seems the type to worry about rules.

“What makes you think I’ll be any better?” You ask, so gently it almost sounds sad.

He doesn’t look up, he hunches his back more and you keep your hand resting where it is. “With all due respect your highness, there was no other choice. I just had to have faith that you were the one cut out for this. You were chosen by a greater power, and this was always going to happen. I just guided your hand.”

You think this over for a few seconds. “What’s your name?”

“Captain Zahhak sir. Equius Zahhak.”

“Well, should you introduce the rest of my guards?”

He looks up at you, hopeful, and you give him a small, reassuring smile.

…

You’re led out of the palace gates by your head guard, Equius, and are surrounded by the other four of your guards, you were worried that someone was going to carry you, but you were allowed to walk on your own.

You chose to walk of course. It felt right, you had to show that you could hold yourself up; you didn’t need anyone’s help. You feel more confident about this whole arrangement by the minute.

You were hatched to do this.

People are crowded around the streets as you walk, you are suddenly, highly aware of how short you are, and people kind of stare in disbelief. You catch slight whispers from the crowd. Things you expected like ‘is that the prince?’, ‘what happened to the old prince?’, and things you didn’t expect, but should have, like ‘he looks so young’ and ‘did he seriously kill the prince himself?’ there’s the odd ‘he’s so cute’, you kind of wish you were a horrible tyrant right now and could punish people for calling you ‘cute’, but you let it slide. Not on your first day.

Once you’ve walked the entire high and midblood districts, you stop at an altar. There’s a man stood at the top of the steps, dressed in an offblue robe that you imagine is his blood colour, it would put him at around the middle of the blues. You’re getting sick of everyone around you being a blueblood, all of your guards are high shades of blue, your guard captain is the deepest shade of blue you’ve ever seen and you wonder if there’s anything between him and an indigo. Is indigo a shade of blue? You always thought it was purple but the way the servants were explaining things to you earlier made it sound like the only ‘purples’ were seadwellers, and indigos aren’t seadwellers.

Apparently, only pure violets can contest the throne legitimately, if there is a lack of violet competition and the current prince isn’t doing a very good job then he may be contested by a lower Seadweller. You had asked why they said ‘he’, and one of the servants gave you this cute, fond chuckle, then explained that there wasn’t such a thing as a princess around here. Any female seadwellers don’t get a chance at the throne in this kingdom, other kingdoms they do, but currently the only female seadweller with any power here, was the Empress.

You were worried about meeting the Empress again, but the servant assured you that you either never would, or it wouldn’t be for a long while. You didn’t think to ask why.

Once the ceremony is complete, the aforementioned blueblood announces to everyone within hearing distance that you are now officially the new prince, and would assume your duties immediately. You’re not even sure what your ‘duties’ are.

…

It turns out that being a prince is easy, and you regret not doing it sooner. Sure you occasionally remember that you don’t have your lusus around, but to be honest, he was always so bossy and grumpy. Your servants all think you’re adorable, and perhaps you’re using it to your advantage, you get your own way a lot, there are certain things you shouldn’t do. Things like, going into the gardens without any of your guards, or playing hide and seek with the servants. There were many things you could encourage them to do with you, lots of games, and they just couldn’t say no to your cute face for the longest time. Until you grew out of the games.

…

Days turned to perigees, to a sweep, and you found yourself at your first war meeting, now that you were old enough to understand that your kingdom was permanently at war with most of the others. There was a treaty in place at the moment, but the meetings continued. There were spies in the other kingdoms making sure no one was plotting anything, and anything suspicious was reported in the meetings.

Despite nothing really happening, you felt comfortable in the meetings. It was just you and a few of your generals all sat around a big empty table discussing whether or not there were any threats to the Empress, Equius behind you to make sure you were safe, in case any of them decided to try and assassinate you.

Despite you being very aware of why you always had bodyguards, the almost certain knowledge that there were people out there that wanted to kill you, and would try, you were pretty okay with generally being a prince. It was hard work sometimes, there were plans on residential and commercial issues, communication from the brooding caverns explaining how the mothergrub was doing and when there would be a new bunch of grubs for the kingdom, or when the imperial drones would be making their rounds. Not that you really understood what they were doing rounds for, but you knew it was important.

Occasionally you would have meetings with members of other kingdoms, asking to come and live under your rule, and you would ask them what they could bring to your kingdom, ask why you should disrupt the harmony of your land. They would explain what they could do, advertise themselves, and if you weren’t satisfied – which you hardly ever were – they would either be thrown out, or if they resisted - claiming that they couldn’t go back - you would have them culled by your guard drones.

…

Today started as another normal day, you were woken up, dressed and had breakfast made for you. But today, you heard a commotion from the kitchen and decided to go against the rules and check out what was happening, and found a couple of your servants were rushing around. When you stopped one and they realized you were down there they both froze.

“What’s the hurry?”

“Your majesty, sorry.” She bows to you. “Did we disturb you?”

“No. It’s fine.”

“Oh. Well, it’s just that we need to prepare for your meeting this evening and we’re…”

“Yes? You can tell me, I won’t be mad.”

“Well, we’re shorthanded. After… Well, you know, we haven’t been able to keep on top of our duties and we’re falling behind. Sorry your highness, we’re just struggling.” You remember the incident recently where one of the servants was found stealing from the palace, and that had led to an investigation that resulted in another servant being dismissed. You’re not sure if they were culled, you didn’t order it at least.

“Can’t you get more servants?”

“Well there are systems in place but actually getting servants is hard as they need to be trustworthy.”

“Your highness?” You recognise Zahhak’s voice and cringe. You shouldn’t be in the servant area, he’s bound to reprimand you.

“Umm, yes?”

“If I may, there is a way around the servant standards system.” He sounds hopeful, like he’s about to make a suggestion that would end all your problems in one go.

“Well if we’re in need a’ more, erm, helpers, then I suppose we could look into somethin’. What do you suggest?”

He bows, accepting his opportunity to advise. “Slaves, your grace.”


	2. Abstruse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> __**ab·struse : Adjective**  
>  Difficult to understand; obscure.

The moonlight is haunting tonight, you stare out over the city that surrounds the palace. Your palace. You can easily make out the people from this low down in the main building, bustling around, going about their lives in an orderly manner. The odd child running through the streets screaming - you find it hard to differentiate between them playing games or genuinely being chased, so you’ve long since grown ignorant to the sound - you’re getting fitted for your ‘Public Appearance’ outfit at the moment, you hadn’t left the palace since your coronation, so there was no need for anyone to rush to get you presentable for the commoners. Apparently this is a special occasion though, you are representing the monarchy at the slave market today.

Your oldest servant – a brownblood whose hair is so scruffy you can’t even see her horns, you’re sure they’re not small - measures you up. Clicking her tongue and making hmm sounds as she holds a tape measure along your arms, legs, around your middle; it’s all very tedious.

Once you’re dressed in a black cotton shirt and pantsuit, cashmere scarf with metal tassels and gold chains clinking together against your chest, you’re announced presentable and allowed to leave; you look pretty damn good, and you tell her so. She looks pleased.

Equius is waiting for you in the foyer, his normal chainmail vest replaced with gold plate armor. It seems a little flashy, but you suppose it’s so people know who you are; although that seems rather counterintuitive.

Another of your servants comes to brush the lapels of your jacket down, even though you only just got the damn thing fitted, sometimes having servants can really get under your skin. They like to make sure every little detail of your appearance is perfect. Sometimes you wish you could just be a normal 10 sweep old kid, playing in the courtyards with your friends, pulling stupid pranks on people you’ll never meet again, getting looked down on by adults, not being listened to because you’re young. You’re not really sure why you’re even considering not living in the palace, it’s all you remember now. It’s not like you had any friends before you came here.

“Your majesty, would you like any of the other guards to accompany us? It can be highly dangerous venturing into the lowblood district with only one guard.”

You wave your hand in his general direction as you rub at your forehead with the other. “No no, it’s fine. You’ll do great. Anyway, can we jus’ go? Everyone’s makin’ such a big deal outta this and it’s really buggin’ the shit outta me.”

“Of course, sire.”

As you emerge onto the front steps of the palace, a friendly breeze that ruffles your scarf and flicks your hair into your eyes greets you. You’re not as close to the ocean as you would like to be, you miss the scent of salt and seaweed on the air.

The pink moon is high in the sky tonight, cascading the street with shades of subtle pinks, with no sign of the green moon to tint the effects and muddy the glow. The effect is enchanting; almost enough to let you forget what you’re doing for a while, as you just trudge on through the highblood district towards the outer edges of the city, slowly the sharp tang of urine starts to overwhelm you, and the further in you go the more of the once fresh air is polluted by animal faeces and alcohol from the numerous bars along the path.

Equius knows exactly where he’s going, and you don’t question that; worried about the response. He knocks on the door of one of the many inconspicuous buildings, and you wait.

The door is opened rather swiftly by a tall man with no obvious symbol or hemocaste indicator, and horns so large that it looks like he would struggle to keep his head up if his neck wasn’t twice as wide as Equius’ own - which it is - and he’s built like a money storage vault.

He doesn’t even look at your guard, right past him and at yourself, he must be over twice as tall as you and being looked down on really infuriates you, but he realises who you are in an instant and is bowing so low you can see right over his back.

“Your highness. What a pleasure.”

You don’t bow back to him, with him even being around this place he must not be even a midblood. He motions you to follow him inside and you look at Equius who nods, and then closes the door behind you as you enter.

The lowblood takes you through the small empty hive and out to the back, where there are three large corrals in the centre of a huge courtyard; each has a shed built along the back wall of the courtyard and there are a few trolls scattered among the enclosures. Honestly you expected a lot more, all packed into horrible conditions and suffering, but there’s only five of them here. They’re all dressed in plain black clothing, two of them are sitting on benches talking, one of them is lying in the grass nearby, reading a book, and two are shouting to each other over the fences separating them. And those two, you notice, are in separate pens on their own, both have circlets around their heads, are blindfolded and their hands are bound.

When your host clears his throat the three in the enclosure closest to you all look up in sync and fumble to the front of the fences to present themselves; they suddenly do look like slaves.

He walks you to them individually, telling you blood colour; a brown, green and even a blue, whether they’re fit for physical exhersion; pretty much all of them are aside from the blue who looks a lot older, and how long they’ve been in ‘service’; there’s one who’s new, one that’s been ‘working’ for a couple of sweeps and the blue’s been a slave for 20 sweeps. He doesn’t tell you anything about the odd two.

“What about those?” You point towards them, it was kind of a pointless gesture.

“They are Psychics. They need special handling.”

You turn to your guard. “Captain Zahhak, can the palace handle Psychics?”

Equius looks them over briefly, one of them is twitching; he looks nervous.

“Perhaps. If they are trained well enough, then certainly. Although, if I may your Majesty, I must enquire as to why they are bound.”

Your host looks between the two of you and you raise an eyebrow as if to prompt him.

“Ah, it is just that they are not being monitored. So we have to take every precaution. You understand.”

You nod, although you have no idea. “So tell me about ‘em.”

“Right. The girl is a red. She has had a few masters. Nobody is quite sure on the number, between 2 and 5 I would guess.” He scratches at the back of his neck. “She is a telekinetic. So she can move objects around.” As if you needed explanation on what a telekinetic was. “There has never been a problem with violence or talking back though. She knows she is better off. She is expensive mind you.”

“Money isn’t an obstacle. Although I’ll know if you’re tryin’ to pull anythin’.”

“I would do no such thing your highness.” He bows again; at least he remembers his respect.

“And him?”

“I’m afraid he is not for sale. I would be reluctant to give him up to anyone without a very particular situation anyway. As he is a very special case.”

“Tell me about him anyway.” You smile at him slyly, he looks a bit uncertain.

“Well, he is a yellow. Mutant of some kind. I did not read all of the paperwork. All I know is he is powerful, and reserved for something in the imperial section.”

“What kinda’ psychic is he?”

“I am not even sure myself. His papers only say ‘classified’. And he will not respond when addressed.”

You make an unimpressed huff and wander over towards the girl, her head perks up when she hears your feet crunching in the grass towards her, the guy seems completely indifferent to you; if he can even hear you.

“So I can take the girl.” That gets a reaction out of him, he bares his atrociously oversized teeth in what he must think is your direction, but is so far off you actually laugh out loud; which has him snapping his head directly toward you and he starts growling deep in his throat, this quiet rumbling that you’ve never heard anyone make before.

“No.” At first you were so busy trying to figure out the difference between a ‘slave’ and a ‘servant’ that you didn’t notice who said it, but you look over toward the blindfolded guy and he’s stood, right up at the bars of the fencing, cuffed hands feeling out to rest on the middle bar, only to stop short from the shackles joining them to his ankles. You quietly walk over, avoiding any patches of ground that would make your approach audible. Perigees of playing catch with your servants and self defence classes has you pretty stealthy.

He’s moving his head like he’s trying to find a patch of the blindfold he can see through. You would almost swear he could see you as you appear in front of him and he follows you with his face. Although after a few seconds of just standing there he seems to go back to searching out where you were stood before.

You look over at your host, he seems tense, unsure, so does Equius. You reach your hand out through the bars and tap on the metal band encircling his head, and he flinches so hard he almost falls backwards.

“And why not?”

Once he’s steadied himself he starts to get his breathing back under control and you kind of feel bad for making him jump so badly, something must have happened to make him so timid. He doesn’t back away though.

His face angles downward, as if he was looking at the ground as he whispers. “She’s all I have. Please.”

He sounds so sad and lost that you almost completely miss the mark on laughing at his speech impediment. It reminds you of one of your old favourite servants, she hissed her S’s. You have a moment of quiet amusement at the sound of this stranger’s lisp crossed with your servants hissing, and how that would sound. But you’re more focused on one thing.

“Well I’d take you too, but I’m not allowed.” You reach through again, he’s stood a bit further back, but you managed to reach just far enough to tug on the chains hanging from his wrists and awkwardly pull him closer to the bars. “I’ll look after her. You’d much prefer she come back with the prince than with some filthy monster as a sex slave, right?”

“So you’re here with the prince? Wow, fucking awesome. So I get carted off to the empress and AA gets sent off to her little puppet. Should’ve seen that coming. It’s like i’m cursed or something...”

“I _am_ the prince.”

He snickers, so you tug his chains downward quickly and he jerks forwards, almost hitting his head on the bars. He immediately stops laughing and tenses, until he seems sure you’re not going to hit him.

“You sound young for a prince.”

“I am.”

“How old?”

“Five and a half.”

“Same...” There’s an awkward silence between the two of you then. He still looks angry for some reason. You wish you could take him back with you, he seems amusing.

“So, you’re reserved for the empress?”

“Well that’s what Imperial means doesn’t it.”

You would shrug your shoulders, but it’d lose any meaning. “Not always, it could be something military.”

He shrinks in on himself. “That sounds even better.” The malicious sarcasm didn’t go unnoticed.

“Well I don’t know the empress personally. Although I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to be having a meeting with her in the next few perigees. Perhaps we’ll meet again sometime.” You start walking away from him, purposefully taking a noisy path so he knows that you’re leaving.

“Look after her...”

You snap your fingers at Equius, who goes back inside the hive to sort out all the boring parts of the transaction. “I will.”

...

You are accompanied back to the palace by a ‘Slave Handler’, who has your new helper on a leash, -which you thought was unnecessary, but you suppose they’re still responsible for the slaves until they actually get to their destination - when you get inside, the Handler runs you through a few points, things that she can do, things she can’t do; even disgusting details about how you could ‘use her’ that you ignore but still nod along to politely.

Your new charge – Aradia, as you were told by her Handler – just stands there next to her, not even flinching as she’s talked about so subjectively. For this alone you wish you didn’t go through with this, but what if you hadn’t, who would’ve bought her then?

Once the Handler leaves, all the doors and windows are locked and the keys are kept in a safe. The main door key is held by Equius as he’s apparently quite capable of keeping her off him with brute strength alone.

After the Handler leaves you remove her blindfold yourself - one of your servants recommends you leave the circlet and cuffs on for a while longer, until she settles in - once her eyes are exposed she scrunches them shut and blinks continuously until she can sort of see. She squints at you and peers up because she’s shorter than you, it’s slightly adorable, but you would never admit that, you are a prince, princes do not see anything as ‘cute’.

“How long did you have that on?”

She looks around, like she’s furiously searching for something but not finding it. Then she looks at you finally, questioningly.

“You can speak whenever you need to.” It gives you flashbacks, and you shudder, cold sparks run straight through you and all you can see is violet, until she speaks.

“A few days.” Her voice is softer than you expected, you thought from shouting to her little friend back there her voice would’ve been rougher.

“Right, well. I’m goin’ to be completely honest now. I’ve never had a slav-v- a slave before. So... i’m just goin’ to treat you like a servant. Just one that can’t leave...” You wave your hand dismissively like it’s no big deal, and try not to sound like you don’t know what you’re doing. Which is exactly how you feel.

Her eyes widen slightly and she bows. “I- don’t know what to say... uhm, your highness.” She says it cautiously, you suppose she’s never been around royalty, not that she’s never been allowed to speak before.

“It’s alright. Now that guy back there, who was he?”

She shifts on her feet, the ankle cuffs click together a few times and you can’t keep your eyes off of them. “He was my Moirail.”

“Was?”

She nods. You try and encourage her to explain with your facial expression. She gets it after a few awkward moments. “Oh. When we were younger, we were Moirails. I haven’t spoken to him since...” You don’t need her to explain that.

“So you just happened to bump into him there then, huh?”

She nods again, looking toward the floor with a soft smile on her face.

“Well i’m goin’ be honest again. I dunno what’s goin’ to happen to him. I mean i’m pretty sure he won’t be killed. But...” You rub a thumb over your rings and try to figure out why the empress would want any kind of psychic.

“I understand. Thank you. Although, sometimes death may be a welcome change.”

You give her a confused look and she blushes, both her hands shooting up to cover her mouth in a comical display.

“I’m sorry, sometimes I talk too much.”

You chuckle despite yourself. “It’s alright. Now, someone show her around. I’m goin’ to have a nap.”

...

You drift into wakefulness to a gentle voice, and someone slowly combing through your hair.

“Your highness, it’s almost supper time. They told me I should come wake you.”

You’re pretty sure it’s Aradia, and you’re glad that it seems someone removed her shackles. You grumble, because you were having a nice dream - rwhere you were leading your troops into battle and trampling all over your enemies. The other kingdoms didn’t know what hit them.

She just giggles at you and you helps you dress.

She offers to do all these strange little things for you that you didn’t even get from your servants before, like cutting up your food, turning pages for you in your books, accompanying you in your recuperacoon when you go down for the day; which is something you don’t want to think about.

All of which you gently decline.

Overall, Aradia is like all of your servants rolled into one. She doesn’t often use her powers unless something large needs moving, and you don’t usually have to ask her to do anything; she just knows what you need and does it. She’s there to wake you gently every evening, and helps you undress when you go to sleep, gives you backrubs whenever your war meetings go badly and doesn’t complain when you rant to her about how everyone seems to think you know the answers to everything when you don’t.

You don’t know how you coped without her.

...

This evening, instead you’re awoken by one of your bodyguards. He shuffles awkwardly by the door.

“Whad’you want?” You slur, you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t normally be awake at this time.

“Your highness. I’m sorry, but it’s important.”

“Seriously? How important?” You rub the sleep from your eyes, Aradia emerges from the doorway to help you dress while your guard just stands there looking out of place and confused.

“Umm, well. It’s the heiress, your Majesty.”

You tilt your head, your hair is still dripping with sopor and it trickles down your face and makes your cheeks tingle. “The... Who?”

Aradia pats you on the back and giggles. “The heiress.” She says sweetly, and not at all patronizingly. “The girl that’s in charge whenever the empress leaves the kingdom.”

You cast her a confused glance. “We have one of those?”

She rolls her eyes and goes back to helping you with your shirt.

The guard clears his throat, you’d forgotten he was even there. “Well, she’s downstairs. Should I tell her you’ll be right down?”

“Of course! I’m not goin’ to make ‘er wait any longer am I. Ara, do I look alright?”

She nods as she tucks some loose hair behind your ear. “Perfect your highness.” 

**Author's Note:**

> by the way, would anyone be interested in a [pre!Transient Karkat backstory?](http://homestuck-zombie.tumblr.com/post/53377184012)
> 
> because if so then that may be a thing when this part's completed


End file.
